His Mission
"And then, I'll come for you."
There's no doubt about it. . . I'm officially trapped in this hell hole until I turn eighteen. I'll have no money, no family and no roof over my head but that's better than the constant beatings.
My breathing hitches in my throat as I see Trevor stir in his arm chair, his hand clutching a can of beer. Please do not wake up. The smell of smoke instantly smacks me in the face causing me to gag. I take a step towards the stairs, quietly creeping past the door before making a run for it. I take the stairs two a time, going as fast as I can.